


A Favor to Ask

by Mrs_Steve_Rogers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Engagement, Gen, Joffrey is king, Joffrey-typical behavior, Mentions of Olenna Tyrell, Mentions of Sansa Stark, almost canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Steve_Rogers/pseuds/Mrs_Steve_Rogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaery has a favor to ask of her betrothed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor to Ask

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place not long before Tywin and Cersei plan to marry Sansa to Tyrion.

Lady Margaery stopped just outside the imposing doors of the king's chambers, a few paces behind the two Kingsguard men that were standing watch. She adjusted her gown, pulling the top lower to further display her curves. Margaery was most comfortable in the revealing Highgarden fashions, not the heavy-sleeved drapery that was the style in King's Landing. And knowing that the queen disapproved of her attire only made her like it more. She knew that the king liked her in it as well. She knocked twice on the solid doors, and a servant let her in. The king was seated at a large desk, with various scrolls and parchment strewn about.  
  
"Yes, yes, what is it?" he said irritably, without looking up.  
  
"I apologize, Your Grace, you must be terribly busy," Margaery replied sweetly, adding a curtsy.  
  
King Joffrey looked up and raised his eyebrows in interest, smiling slightly. "Oh, it's you. Apologies, my lady. Come in," He looked over at the servant by the door. "Leave us."  
  
Margaery wandered over to stand next to her betrothed and smiled graciously at him. With Joffrey, you had to overdo the adoration to appease his delicate ego. "May I ask what it is that you are pondering over, Your Grace?"  
  
"Mother insisted that I look over the notes from the small council meeting. They're as dull and unbearable as the stupid meetings are,"  
  
"Of course, Your Grace. I can only imagine how dreadful it must be. Surely the queen and the council just want your insight on the matters they deliberate,"  
  
"I suppose. They're all bloody imbeciles on the council, I swear to the gods,"  
  
"I couldn't agree more, Your Grace," she put her hand lightly on Joffrey's shoulder, drawing his attention to her completely.  
  
He looked over at her, his green eyes travelling up her body to her lovely face.  
  
_Good, he likes the dress then. ___  
  
"Your Grace, I was hoping I might ask a small favor of you,"  
  
The king raised an eyebrow. "A favor? What is it?"  
  
Margaery slowly slid her hand down Joffrey's arm as she knelt next to him, their faces now level. "Well, you see, since your engagement to the Stark girl was nullified - thank the gods - I was curious as to whether she needs must remain in King's Landing," she chose her words carefully. "My grandmother, the Lady Olenna, is convinced that Lady Sansa would do better to travel back to Highgarden with her," Margaery and Olenna had taken a liking to the fragile young girl; they wanted to help her escape the Lannister's clutches, and saw great opportunity in having her in Highgarden with the Tyrells.  
  
Joffrey's expression darkened at the first mention of Sansa. "What do I care of that girl's predicament?" he shifted in his seat. "Mother says she's to remain here. Why would your grandmother want her in Highgarden anyway?"  
  
"Oh, you know old women. She will miss me terribly once she returns to the Reach, her favorite granddaughter," she smiled mischievously. "I think she intends on using Sansa as a replacement for me, the poor girl. And with how busy your queen mother is, she shouldn't be bothered with keeping track of a little girl. At Highgarden, there would be plenty of loyal people to keep a watchful eye on her and make sure she...cooperates with the crown." She had no intention of telling the king that her grandmother intended to marry Sansa to Loras Tyrell. Joffrey would likely tell his mother, and she would never agree to that.  
  
Joffrey stood up suddenly. "No, the Stark girl must stay here. She doesn't _deserve _to be sent away," he looked angry now; Margaery was running out of time.__  
  
"But, Your Grace, surely she would be better kept from her family if she was moved to Highgarden; they wouldn't know where to find her,"  
  
"No, I'm not through with the bitch yet,"  
  
"Please, Your Grace-"  
  
The king lashed out without warning, grabbing her upper arm painfully and hauling Margaery to her feet. "I said no," he hissed slowly in a low voice. "You will be my queen, but I am the king. Do not forget your place, my lady," he was squeezing her arm tightly, likely leaving a bruise. "Do you understand?"  
  
Margaery remained calm, resisting both crying out in pain and the urge to shove him away. She kept her eyes lowered submissively, long eyelashes making shadows under her eyes. "Yes, Your Grace,"  
  
He released her after a few more seconds and stepped back. "Good. You would do well to remember that," strangely, he touched her cheek, probably trying halfheartedly to make amends for his anger. "Don't fret, my lady. I shall see you on the morrow." And with that King Joffrey turned away from her and returned to his notes.  
  
"Of course, Your Grace." Margaery left the king's chambers as poised as possible, despite her distress. She pasted on a smile as she opened the door, nodding politely at the Kingsguard as she passed. She must always appear put together and in control. Her grandmother had taught her that.


End file.
